


bruises on your thighs (my fingertips)

by darkangel0410



Series: burn this city down (to show you the light) [3]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, BDSM, Light Bondage, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 17:34:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10496103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkangel0410/pseuds/darkangel0410
Summary: It’s hard, being in Toronto while Trevor’s in Chicago, but playing hockey makes up for it in some ways. It’s easy to pretend that the bruises he gets from being checked and whacked with stray sticks is from Trevor. To press on them when he’s jerking off over skype.James knows how to make do, how to make each bruise feel like it was put there personally by his dom. It’s not easy, but if James liked to take the easy way in anything, he wouldn’t be a hockey player.And he definitely wouldn’t have asked his brother to collar him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Have some more vR porn, guys.

It’s hard, being in Toronto while Trevor’s in Chicago, but playing hockey makes up for it in some ways. It’s easy to pretend that the bruises he gets from being checked and whacked with stray sticks is from Trevor. To press on them when he’s jerking off over skype.

James knows how to make do, how to make each bruise feel like it was put there personally by his dom. It’s not easy, but if James liked to take the easy way in anything, he wouldn’t be a hockey player.

And he definitely wouldn’t have asked his brother to collar him. 

*

It starts when they’re in high school.

Trevor’s two years younger than he is, but it’s never seemed that way to James; Trevor’s always calm, self-assured, and when he gave James orders it was with a casualness that said he knew James would obey him. It should have been annoying, his _little_ brother ordering him around but instead it was calming for him. It quieted the part of him that was anxious to please, that always wanted to be told what to do. James didn’t know if that’s how it was for other subs or if it was only him, but there was always this need to _obey_ for him, almost a constant itch under his skin. He could ignore it, and he did a lot of the time, but there was always this sense of relief when he gave in and did whatever he was told.

It was easy for him to be that way with Trevor, to just let go and do whatever Trevor told him to. And it was even easier to sit on the floor by his legs when they were playing video games or doing homework. It feels natural to lean against Trevor’s legs to get as close as possible to him. 

And when Trevor threads his fingers through James hair and tugs a little, not really hard, just enough to tip James head back so he’s looking Trevor in the eyes, and asks, “Is this ok?”, it’s easy for James to nod and say, “Yeah, Trev, I like it.”

It’s always so easy with Trevor, easy to talk about what they both want, easy to be himself, easy to depend on him. It’s everything else around them that’s complicated; hockey, school, keeping what they are a secret from their parents and everyone else.

James kind of likes that, though, that they have to work to keep their relationship a secret; it reminds him of hockey, in a way, where even things that were easy for him -skating, scoring- still had to be practiced and honed so they would always be there when he needed them to be.

*

They only see each other a handful of times during the season, separated by an entire country as well as being in different conferences, and they’ve both learned how to make the most out of the time they do get to spend together. 

Blackhawks come to Toronto in the middle of March and James spends the entire week leading up to it in a great mood; everyone assumes it’s because they’re back in a playoff spot and, yeah, that’s part of it, but mostly it’s because he finally gets to see his dom in person again. 

Trevor gets there the night before the game and they don’t have time to do anything too intense but it still feels amazing to be this close again, to have Trevor hold his wrists behind his back while he rides him, grip tight enough that there’s red marks on his skin the next morning. James presses on them during his pregame routine every few minutes and relishes the way it aches, a reminder that his dom is with him again, even if it’s only for a handful of hours.

*

After the game, James rushes through his post-game cool down and takes a few questions before he slips out to his car where Trevor’s waiting for him. 

Trevor looks up when he hears James walking up to him and smiles, soft and happy, before he slips his phone into his pocket. “You ready to go?”

He reaches over and lays a hand on the back of James’s neck and squeezes then slides his hand down to James’s lower back before he gives him a slight push towards the car; it’s quick, just in case there’s someone around, but it makes James shiver, and he can’t help the way he leans towards his dom. “Trevor, _please_.”

“You have to wait until we get to the apartment,” Trevor tells him, his voice low and firm, steady in the way Trevor always was and that never fails to make James _want_ , “As soon as we get there, I’ll give you whatever you want, baby.” 

James takes a deep breath and nods, carefully steps further away from Trevor before he asks, “Can you drive? I don’t think I should right now.”

“Yeah, of course,” Trevor assures him; he takes the keys when James offers them, palm up, and opens the passenger side door for him before getting in and starting the car.

The ride to the apartment goes by in a blur for James; he concentrates on staying out of subspace, on waiting until they’re behind closed doors before he drops. James can feel it around the edges of his mind, close enough to almost taste and he has to bite his lip to keep from begging Trevor for something that he knows he’s going to get as soon as they get inside his place.

They’re barely inside the door and Trevor’s pulling him close, fisting a hand in his hair to hold him still for a rough kiss. James whines when Trevor pulls back, wanting more, wanting _everything_ as soon as possible.

“Fuck, James, you look so good like this,” Trevor says, tightening the hand he has in James’s hair and pulling so his throat was bared; Trevor scrapes his teeth down his jaw, sets his teeth into the muscle just above his collar and bites down, the bright flare of pain making James moan even as it turns to pleasure. 

“Please, sir,” James begs, straining against the hold Trevor has on him; he wants Trevor to just take, to pin him down and fuck him, bruise him, to make him feel it tomorrow when Trevor’s on his way back to Chicago and James is still here.

“You’re always so eager for it, aren’t you,” Trevor tells him, that edge of mean in his voice that James loves, “Bedroom. Now.”

James doesn’t waste any time in obeying, stripping off his suit as he went, only slowing down to take off his pants so he didn’t trip and land on his face; he was naked and on his knees by the time Trevor came into the bedroom, out of his jacket and tie, sleeves pushed up by his forearms, and carrying two water bottles that he put on the night stand before going to stand in front of James.

“Look at you, already naked,” Trevor says, fitting his fingers under James’s chin and tilting his head back so James had to look at him. “What do you want, baby? Do you want my cock again? Just like last night?”

James shudders, remembering the way Trevor had held onto him, bruising his wrists and he can’t help the way his voice catches when he says, “Y-y-yes, sir, please, I want you to fuck me.”

“Of course you do, you’re such a slut for it, aren’t you?” Trevor asks, pressing his fingers against James’s lips and smirks when James’s starts sucking eagerly on them. “You’d choke yourself on my fingers if I let you.

“If we had more time, I’d make you wait to get fucked, maybe after I came on your face a couple times, I’d finally give you what you want. You always look so pretty with my come on your face,” Trevor muses, pushing his fingers further into James’s mouth; James whines around his dom’s fingers, half-afraid that Trevor means it, that he really won’t fuck him tonight. “But I have to leave in the morning so I think it’s going to have to wait until the summer.

“On the bed,” Trevor orders with a casualness that comes from years together, from Trevor knowing James inside and out; the kind of studied casualness that has a lifetime of obedience behind it. “On your back, arms above your head.”

James doesn’t waste any time obeying; it only takes a few minutes for him to get from where he’s kneeling in front of Trevor to on his back on the bed, his arms over his head just like he was ordered. He can hear Trevor going through his closet before coming back to the bed, one of James’s ties in his hand.

“Put your forearms together, baby,” Trevor tells him and then wraps the tie from the bottom of his wrists to the middle of his forearms; Trevor slips two fingers under the silk after he ties it off, making sure there’s enough room between James’s skin and the material. “How does that feel, baby, is it tight enough?”

“Yes, sir,” James says breathlessly as he tries to pull his arms apart; he sighs happily when the knots hold, relaxing onto the bed, already starting to slip under. He can feel himself starting to get fuzzy around the edges; it’s always so easy for him to find subspace when Trevor’s here with him. 

He drifts after that, slipping further under every time Trevor bites him; he can hear himself begging for Trevor to fuck him, making whining noises when his dom isn’t going fast or hard enough. But it’s faint, fading in and out of James’s consciousness; mostly he’s just so happy and relaxed and content, he feels better than he has in so long, safe and here, tied up and held in place by Trevor’s knots, being loved and used the way they both loved.

James isn’t sure how long it’s been when he blinks open his eyes; he’s curled up against Trevor’s side, his head resting against Trevor’s chest while Trevor cards his fingers through James’s hair. James makes a happy noise and moves enough so he can press a kiss to Trevor’s jawline before he settles back down.

“Hey, baby, how you feeling?” Trevor asks softly, tightening his fingers in James’s hair slightly, a signal that James knows means he expects a vocal answer.

“I’m good,” James tells him, even though ‘good’ doesn’t come close to describing exactly how he feels right now; Trevor tips James head back carefully and studies his face for a long second. James can only guess the way he looks, happy and still half out of it. Whatever he sees makes Trevor smile, soft and happy and _proud_ , like James did something amazing. It makes James flush and duck his head so he can press his face against Trevor’s neck. Trevor chuckles, but doesn’t say anything, just goes back to petting James hair.

James closes his eyes and relaxes, content for now. Tomorrow Trevor would be gone, back on his way to Chicago, and he’d still be here in Toronto, but for now they were still together.

It was hard, but they made it work.

.


End file.
